It’s a cold day in July in Western Oregon.
And a great big bunch of states to the east and south are cooking. Big time.
But honestly it is 59 degrees F. here and raining. Shooting for a high of 70. I’m not complaining, but you must agree that somebody has truly broken the weather. Hard to say what the problem is but you might check out some of the new electric vehicles if you happen to be well-enough employed to buy a car.
And then plant a tree, if you get a chance.
But back to the garden.
I’ve been working on the house painting project and getting very acquainted with every detail of the porch, especially all the nail holes and cracks that need filling. Mr. O thinks it best that I use a caulking gun for that, but I really think that might be because he finds it so entertaining when I am decorated with smudges of caulk. I hate caulk. It’s like honey, or jam, it has a life of it’s own and it travels.
This is a caulking gun. It’s not the kind of gun you can kill yourself with and that’s lucky because kill yourself is pretty much what you want to do after about ten minutes of using the caulking gun.
It works like this: you squeeze the little trigger thing and the dispensing of caulk commences. (There is no safety on this gun.)
And then you turn it off but NO it just keeps coming, like the Mississippi River or the electric bills or mosquitos at night when you leave the door open.
(Well isn’t that nice. Mr. O says I have been turning it off wrong. Now he tells me. Why has that been such a secret for twenty years?)
I am excited to have my house painted (I do it every thirty years whether it needs it or not) and each day I put on my designer jeans and shirt (designed daily, more or less) and climb a ladder and paint, or crawl around on the floor and sand or have it out with the caulking gun, those sorts of things.
I used to have nice plants by the porch, but the scaffolding is such an obstruction that I have pretty much neglected the ones I haven’t actually stepped on and they all have variegated foliage now thanks to my system of painting, rather like a brush that is also a sprayer.
In other news, the deer dropped by for a visit. Now I know how tall they are.
And Tillie’s back from Italy. She’s not sharing.